Harry Potter and the Book of Rituals
by Mills The Wind
Summary: A Death Eater's last ditch attempt to bring Lord Voldemort back after Harry Potter destroyed him has created an alternate universe. How is it different from our established universe? Will Harry and company survive in this new world? Will the two universes be joined together, or will they battle? Read and Find Out!
1. Green Gloves

**Chapter One - Green Gloves**

Yaxley's blood left a trail as he limped his way up the path. Thorns dug into his once regal robes, sometimes penetrating deeply enough to put a scratch on his dirt covered skin. But he was used to it. This was his seventh trek up the elm covered mountain in the past 20 hours, and at this point he was beyond all caring for superficial pain. He had no time to take in the wooded environment around him. Time was expensive and he had already spent all of his.

The babe in his arm cried incessantly, as it had ever since Yaxley had pried it out of the arms of its dead mother. He was not even sure what gender the child was. He paused, leaning against a small, knotted tree trunk as a thought came to him. Did it matter if the children were male or female? Since the main two people involved in the ritual were male, should the children be as well? He shook his head and kept walking. It did not matter. Need. Focus. He did not have the strength to find 3 or 4 more children to replace the random females. If this was going to happen, it had to happen now.

As Yaxley reached the top of the mountain, he took a moment to gaze upon his work. The most important work he had ever done. Floating fire lit the area, one fireball roaring above each cradle. Seven cradles, all arranged in a circle. The old spell books he had managed to find on the spell said only one child was needed but Yaxley had decided to emulate his Master. Seven was a magical number.

The night wind tossed about Yaxley's long blonde hair as he slowly made his way over to the one empty crib that was left. He placed the child in it. Yaxley allowed himself a moment of self congratulations. It had also been his idea to find seven children that had been born on the day that the Dark Lord had died for this spell, no this ritual. Anything that might help him get his Master back was worth the effort.

It had been three months since that fateful day. But he had not given up. Yaxley was nothing without the Dark Lord. For the first month he had moped around, avoiding Auror's, just trying to stay alive without a reason to justify the effort. He had fled to Africa, and found a way to live. Oddly enough, it ensured his death.

The beaten up wizard walked to the middle of the clearing, cribs arranged in a circle around a large black kettle set up over an unnatural green fire. For the first time in what seemed like forever, he heard the compact dirt give off a slight crunching sound under his feet. Everything seemed more… alive. The slight breeze that refreshed the scars on his weathered face. The pain, not physical but mental, from looking at the tattoo of the Dark Mark that he knew would never shine again. The senses were heightened with the good and the bad apparently. Balance. Is that what it always was like in the moments before you died?

The ritual Yaxley was about to perform he had found in an old African spell book in the middle of Kenya, of all places. It had taken a month to find it, another two weeks to translate it, and two weeks to set the ritual up. Zero time for him to decide it was worth it.

If he had translated correctly, this ritual would cause a tear in the universe, that would create an alternate universe. He could travel back in time in the alternate universe, based on need. On where he needed to go. To change things. And apparently this would help to change the current universe, based on the words in the forgotten spell book. 'As you change one, the other will surely follow.' But he would not have much time, it had also made that very clear.

Eleven inches. Troll hair. Quite bendy. His hand grasped his wand as his mind went back. He was not a man of reflection, but he could not help himself.

"_Did you find that satisfying?"_

_Yaxley looked up in shock. He was unaware that anyone else was in the house. It was a muggle's residence, after all. A man stood before him, black cloak regally sitting about his shoulders. This man had… presence._

_Yaxley quickly looked behind him at the decapitated bodies of the muggles he had just tortured, and at the teenager who was still breathing, if only just. Before he could turn back to the man who had appeared out of nowhere, he heard a curse uttered. The curse. "CRUCIO!" The beam hit the teenager, who throbbed around on the floor. One last attempt to stave off death. But it was useless. The spell killed him. Yaxley breathed in his demise. Even though he was not the one to administer it, he still drank in it's smell. Drool ran down the boy's mouth and onto the floor._

_He turned back around to face the man. "Who are you?"_

_A smile that never touched the man's eyes was all Yaxley got in response._

That had been so long ago. The day he had met the Dark Lord. The best day of his life. Tears would have started in his eyes, but he was long past that. It was time to act. It was time to get the Dark Lord back.

Yaxley held his wand up, pointed it was the twinkling night sky. Yelled the words he had memorized. "BLOOD OF THE BABE, BE THE RIVER THAT TAKES ME BACK!" He twirled his wand in a circle above his head, and electrical sparks flew from it's tip. Each jolt connected with a child in the crib, killing them instantly, but not before taking seven drops of their blood each. All seven drops from each kid floated towards the cauldron, meeting and combining into a giant ball above the green fire. With no warning it dropped into the cauldron.

Yaxley took a deep breath. He had to get this right. Need. He had to focus his mind, to concentrate on where he needed to get to in time. Take me where I need to go to save the Dark Lord, he thought to himself. Take me where I need to go to save the Dark Lord.

He stretched out his body over the cauldron, green flames ignoring his robes. Wand still in his outstretched hand but now pointed at himself, he did it, keeping his focus on what he needed.

"BODY OF THE SERVANT, BE THE VESSEL THAT TRAVELS BACK!"

An orange light left his wand, and Yaxley's soul left his body, leaving this universe forever.

* * *

"Take me where I need to go to save the Dark Lord. Take me where I need to go to save the Dark Lord." Yaxley was whispering it now, eyes closed as he felt the environment shift around him. He was no longer laying across the cauldron; he was standing upright. No matter how clenched his eyes were they would not be able to keep out the various colors flashing around him. No matter how much he focused on what he needed, it would not be enough to keep the queasiness out of his stomach. Over and over again, a searing pain in his head. He fell to his knees. Was this what all the people he had murdered felt when they had died?

As suddenly as it had started, it stopped. Yaxley was frightened, afraid to open his eyes. But he knew he had very little time. The spell book had been very clear on that. He was an intruder in this alternate universe he had created, and the universe would seek to correct itself.

His darkened eyes opened. Need. Focus. Need. This had to have worked. A house was directly in front of him. The ritual had taken him here. This was where he needed to go to save the Dark Lord.

It seemed to be a normal house in a muggle village. Yaxley got up and walked to the front door. He felt… odd. Light. As if he was not there in every way. As if some of him was left behind. He knew his death was near. He knew he was incomplete. But for the first time in months, he was more alive then ever.

Yaxley was about to bust open the door when he noticed something near his feet. A boy, an infant. Blankets about him, letter in his hand, scar on his forehead. Yaxley breathed in deeply. This was Harry Potter!

Yaxley quickly pulled his wand out, and then stopped. He only had one shot at this. His need, his focus to save the Dark Lord had taken him to this moment. Not before the Dark Lord attacked the Potters so he could warn his Master. Here. It stood to reason that meant the Dark Lord needed Harry Potter. But something had to change.

There was no pain. There was just his legs giving out on him, as if they were no longer there. His time was running out. He grabbed the boy quickly and apparated.

In a flash he was in another place. This was not where he needed to be, damn it!

Again!

Again!

One final time, he moved. He was in the village. He did not have time to find who he wanted too, but this would have to do. It would work. He felt his unstable spirit in this alien universe start to leave him. This was not enough though! Yaxley took his wand and uttered some incantations at the boy as he placed him on another doorstep, this one far different from the one he had previously been on. The first one to make the child undetectable by magic. And others to ensure his path growing up was different. Course correction would be disastrous.

Eventually Yaxley collapsed on the ground, lying beside the Boy Who Lived, knowing he was about to become the Man Who Died. But that was alright. Because the Dark Lord would rise again because of him. Need. Focus. He was ali…

As Yaxley winked out of existence, the boy on the doorstep yawned, still wrapped in blankets but letter in his little hand long forgotten, lost in the wind. Unaware of his new path, of his old self in a far away place, but ready to face the challenges in this new world. Whatever they may be.

* * *

**A/N - First time fan fiction author. This was really a short prologue before the story begins with Chapter Two. Please review! They are what I bet will keep me writing! Thank you!**


	2. Thirsty

**Chapter Two - Thirsty**

Time was everything. Harry had been told that, over and over again. Drilled into his head ever since he was a child learning to take his first steps. When you lived a hard life like he did, every second counted.

Harry sat on the curb of the busy street, messy black hair threatening to cover up his emerald eyes. The man who had just bought his last statue was stopping at the Café that Harry was no longer allowed in. It was complete rubbish, he thought to himself with a half grin. He had not been the one to light that firecracker!

Putting his right hand down on the curb to boost himself up, Harry headed towards the Allegheny River. He knew of a spot along it's shore where driftwood would routinely get caught. Not that he expected to find the right piece today. That was one thing has father had taught him.

"Hey Birdman," came a holler from behind Harry. He turned around and smiled as he saw Nick approaching.

Growing up homeless on the streets of Pittsburgh was not fun, but having friends like Nick made up for it. A hippie in every sense of the word, they had known each other for most of the 17 years Harry had been alive. Long dirty blonde hair ran wild down Nick's back, with shades of blue clothing gracing his slim body. In a lot of ways, Nick was even more of an outcast then Harry. Nick grew up in a house, with parents and all the luxuries that such an upbringing provided. He choose to hang out with Harry. He just did not care. It was a type of bravery that Harry wished he could emulate.

"Did you sell it?" Nick asked as he came up beside Harry and they started to walk.

"50 dollars."

"Rub a dandelion fur on my cheek! That's awesome. That will be enough to fatten you up some." A car beeped in the background, cutting him off. "Or maybe get you a haircut."

Harry laughed. "You are one to talk." No matter how much Harry cut his hair, it always seemed to grow back at a much faster rate then the hair of those he knew. It was maddening. Eventually he just gave up until it started to make funny animal shapes.

"Indeed." Nick paused to wave hi to Lenny, the hoagie vendor. "Any idea what you are going to make this time? You are going to the river, right?"

"Yeah, I was thinking about making a pirate. And if that works, maybe start a long term side project of a pirate ship or something."

Harry was rewarded with a slap on the back by Nick's left hand. "Finally graduating from animals huh? I like it!" Nick flipped his right wrist and it cracked. He was constantly doing that.

The animals Nick was referring to were wooden statues Harry carved out of driftwood recovered from the rivers. It was his main source of income. And by that, he meant his only source of income. He had made just about every animal possible.

"Let's hurry up," Harry muttered as he started to jog. Nick groaned as he picked up his pace to match his friend's. "I think it's going to rain!"

* * *

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Nymphadora Tonks winced as she saw the flash of green highlight the wall behind her. She hoped that none of the Order had been hit by that. These Death Eaters were throwing killing curses around like they were candy! Did they not care if they hit one of their own? She snorted. They probably did not give a griffin's ass. They were winning. Nobody wanted to admit it, not even Dumbledore, but it was true.

Tonks peeked out from behind the stone she hiding behind to cast a curse in a Death Eater's direction. Their mission was simple. Defend the cache. The mission was what it had been for years now, it seemed like. Defend, defend, defend. Never attack. The Order never had enough people to attack. But, it was like Remus always told her. "_It is the quality of one's convictions that determines success, not the number of followers._"

In this, they were defending a box. It was directly behind Tonks, which made her nervous. But Dumbledore said it was to be kept safe; that You Know Who could not be allowed to have it's contents. They had no idea what Dumbledore had in it. So for the past year Remus Lupin, Arthur Weasley and herself had been moving this box around once every two days to a new location. At first she had tried to give herself a new, unique hair color every time they changed locations, but even her active imagination could not come up with that many colors!

Out of the corner of her eye, on her right side, she saw Remus stand up, and then instantly duck to avoid a curse. She swore to herself as she started firing off spells at the 5 or so Death Eater's that had found them, trying to cover him. Arthur was doing the same. Damn him for trying to be a hero!

As Remus brought his wand forward, wordlessly casting the spell, water flew from the tip of it. Not just a little squirt either. TONS of water, a river gushing out from him. As it hit the Death Eaters, who tried to ignore it, they started to scream. She watched as the water hit a Death Eater's hand. Instantly, the skin started to peel off, hanging off his wand which was still held up by his bones. The man's howl was excruciating. Tonks eyes widened. An acid like substance in the water? That was particularly nasty. It saddened her, in a way. When she first met Remus and got to know him, she could never imagine him doing something like that. But it was necessary. Protecting this box was essential.

With a nod from Remus all three of the Order advanced forward, shooting spells at the retreating Death Eaters who were trying to avoid the water and deflect the Order's attacks. Two of them disappeared, apparating away. The one grabbed the other way and did the same. The final one started to warp when Tonks cast her spell at it. It just caught up and he was whipped back, hard onto the ground, wand falling forgotten away from the creature.

Remus, Arthur and Tonks all approached the collapsed Death Eater, wands pointed at the pile of human waste.

"Remove it," Arthur said in a steely voice. Dark shadows dominated his eyes. Tonks knew he missed his wife something fierce. She gave an almost imperceptible look towards Remus. She could not imagine being away from the one she loved for that long.

The Death Eater slowly took off his mask, and all three of the Order stared in shock. This was their biggest catch yet. Laying on the ground, at their mercy, their prisoner, was Lucius Malfoy.

"Nymphadora, go back to HQ now. Get Mad Eye." Remus had a calm tone to his voice but she could tell he was worked up.

"We will apparate to the next point with the… cargo… in case they come back," Arthur added. "So meet us there."

Malfoy snorted. "Cargo?" A slimy smirk came across his face. "Did your precious Dumbledore even tell you what it is you guard with your pathetic lives?"

None of them cared enough to take the bait. They were all veterans of this terrible war now.

* * *

It was starting to sprinkle rain as Harry and Nick approached the river. "… so that is what I want to get father for his birthday, and what the spare money will be going for," Harry stated to Nick, who nodded.

"I like the idea." Nick laughed as he saw the river come into view. "We are at the river."

"Never fish in the river," Harry laughed.

"Never swim in the river," Nick added.

"Never have intercourse in the river!" they said together. That had become a routine for them. A few years back someone had spray painted those words on a nearby warehouse wall. So every time they came here, they just had to say it. Recently another artist had written MAKES MUTANNT CHILDURN across the phrase. Harry was not sure if the misspelled words made it better or worse.

Their laughter was cut off by a scream. Maybe a hundred yards downstream, Harry could see a rather large man, holding a woman by her arms, dragging her. She was trying to fight him off but it was useless.

Harry took off running, Nick right behind him. The large man heard them coming and punched the woman in the gut, causing her to kneel over on the ground. As he turned around to face Harry and Nick, Harry threw himself at the man, trying to knock him on the ground by running at him shoulder first. Kind of like a bull would. Except Harry was not a bull. The man took a step backwards at Harry's impact. Harry tried to back up but the man grabbed him by the throat and picked him up. Instinctively, Harry's hands went to his throat to try and pull the man's hand away while his feet kicked at the criminal, but that did not work. He gagged, starting to see colors. He was blinking his eyes furiously, so he missed seeing the rock make contact with the side of the man's face.

The criminal instantly dropped Harry, his hand going to the side of his head and coming back covered with blood. He growled and turned at Nick, who was preparing another rock. But the man reached him first. Harry started to try and stand when he saw the criminal's hand go into his pocket, and pull out a knife. It was cliché to state, but if Harry had to describe his feeling right then, his heart stopped.

"WATCH OUT," yelled Harry as the man brought the knife up, slashing Nick across the cheek. Nick stumbled back in shock. The man brought his knife up over his shoulder, ready to stab Harry's best friend with it. As he moved the knife forward, Harry felt… odd. He thought he screamed no, but he could not be sure. All he knew was that suddenly, the criminal was thrust backwards by some unseen force. His feet left the ground and he flew all the way across the river into a tree on the other side. He hung there on the tree, as if he had hit it as such an impact that he was somehow stuck on it. But eventually gravity took over and he fell face forward into the river, leaving a blood angel on the tree and a trail of red in the river as his body washed down stream.

Harry was in shock, still trying to get his breath back, and figure out what the hell had just happened. How was the possible? How could a man fly like that, with no obvious force propelling him? Harry thought he must be seeing things, that he was woozy from the thrashing he had received from the criminal.

"Hey Nick, you alright? Did you see that?!"

Nick was still on the ground. Harry hoped his cheek was alright. He jogged up to him, and looked down. The knife was sticking out of his cobalt sweater. There was no life in his best friend's eyes.

"No," Harry whispered to himself. "No no no no NO!" He grabbed his buddy's shoulders and started shaking them, trying to get him to wake up even though he knew it was useless. His mind went blank with terror. He had never seen anyone die before. And this was not just anyone.

Tears flew from his eyes as he stood up. He had to get help. He started to walk, which turned into a run. The woman who was being accosted by the criminal was nowhere insight. No doubt she had taken off as soon as she was able.

Harry tripped and fell, covering the front of his patched jeans and flannel shirt with mud from the sprinkling rain of the past few days. He got back up and kept running. His father. He would go get his father! He would know what to do.

It happened again, but this time it was a street curb. Harry fell and whacked his head off the pavement. "DAMN IT," he yelled as he sat on the side of the street, tears now running faster than the river. Why? Why did this have to happen?

Harry felt a hand on his shoulder, and a female voice spoke. "Are you okay?"

Harry shook his head, trying to get his bearings, to come to grips with what had just happened, but just mentally unable too. His brain just could not get there, it could not make the connections.

The voice spoke again, and Harry had no idea what she said. He turned to look at her, maybe just to distract himself. He had lost his glasses when he had fallen so he could not really see her that well.

"What did you say?" Harry asked, not all that kindly.

"I asked if there was anything I could do to help," she said, reaching out and touching his shoulder again. "My name is Hermione."

* * *

**A/N - Thanks for reading! Please review and leave your thoughts, it pushes me to write more! **

**Also, thanks to pawsrule and Ryan W for reviewing, x14sg1, Jaded Panther, highelfking and nikkistew2 for favoriting, and Kidan, Josepheus, emarald777, DancerAthena9, True Texan and Old Girl Lost for signing up for Alerts! I appreciate it very much!**


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